<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Roadtrip by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488737">Roadtrip</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, george is a creep in this, hes messed up he should go directly to jail, if you recognise my writing style no you dont &lt;3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:53:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29488737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When he had started to fall backwards, George, out of the goodness of his heart, had caught him and lowered him gently across the three back seats instead of letting him drop and wake up. Unfortunately for George, this means Sapnap's head is now in his lap, and Sapnap sighs gently, turns his face toward George's front, dark hair loose and falling over George's thighs and lips just slightly parted. He'll be pissed off when he wakes up, George thinks. Sapnap doesn't even like him, much as he played up affection in videos. Unless they have some form of mediator, or half a planets' distance between them, things generally devolve into bickering, which is why George is dreading this whole roadtrip idea. It'll all end in tears, he knows it will.<br/>Still though, George can't help but watch his lips, pink as rose petals and just slightly chapped, and when Sapnap's tongue moves between them in his sleep, George is struck with perhaps the worst idea he's ever had.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Roadtrip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George isn't sure how the hell it happened. He's been sitting in this stupid car for three hours now and Dream, driving, seems utterly absorbed by whatever he's thinking about, gently nodding to the music on the radio while their recording equipment sits in the front passenger seat, and Sapnap… well Sapnap is asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd been bitchy all morning, complaining about the lack of sleep he'd gotten, how Dream had the AC on too cold, how he had a headache, and George sneered something about the baby needing a nap, and Dream had laughed, but Sapnap did not seem to find it funny. He turned toward the window, pulled his feet up onto the seat and his shoulders in tight, and stared at the road until he really had fallen asleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he had started to fall backwards, George, out of the goodness of his heart, had caught him and lowered him gently across the three back seats instead of letting him drop and wake up. Unfortunately for George, this means Sapnap's head is now in his lap, and Sapnap sighs gently, turns his face toward George's front, dark hair loose and falling over George's thighs and lips just slightly parted. He'll be pissed off when he wakes up, George thinks. Sapnap doesn't even like him, much as he played up affection in videos. Unless they have some form of mediator, or half a planets' distance between them, things generally devolve into bickering, which is why George is dreading this whole roadtrip idea. It'll all end in tears, he knows it will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still though, George can't help but watch his lips, pink as rose petals and just slightly chapped, and when Sapnap's tongue moves between them in his sleep, George is struck with perhaps the worst idea he's ever had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's pretty like this, George thinks, all long eyelashes and soft features, George bets if he put his hand on Sapnap's cheek, it'd be smooth as silk. George's fingers twitch, the hand he's got on Sapnap's chest lifting slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's only curiosity, George thinks. He won't do anything untoward. He moves without even realising he has, and now that hand is resting mere millimeters away from Sapnap's skin. What's the harm, George shrugs to himself, lets his fingertips rest on a face that is, as he'd theorised, soft, warm, with gentle give to his round cheeks. It feels like what he's doing shouldn't be allowed, as George lets the pad of his thumb glide along the delicate skin below Sapnap's eye, and Sapnap sighs gently, and shifts his head toward George slightly, lips still parted as his cheek grazes the pocket of George's hoodie. George shudders slightly. If he tilts his head he can just about see the tip of his pink tongue, just behind his lips. George bites the inside of his cheek, lets his thumb move down Sapnap's face gently, feels Sapnap's breath tickle his skin, and traces the outline of those pink lips gently. They're soft to the touch and slightly damp, and George is drawn in by no will of his own, brushes the warm, wet tongue and feels it move slightly against the pad of his thumb. Sapnap's lips are gentle around him, close to encircle George and softly, almost imperceptibly, Sapnap sucks on the digit. George blinks, feels electricity lance down his spine, feels his jaw clench as Sapnap's tongue moves against him, slick and warm, and George fights the urge to moan, presses deeper and lets his jaw drop as Sapnap swallows, seems to pull George in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blinks rapidly, takes a deep breath that hisses slightly and makes to withdraw his thumb, shudders as Sapnap whines gently, discontented, and that… that makes George think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should leave it where it is. There's a heady sense of satisfaction that coils around the arousal in George's gut, hot and addictive, the knowledge that he was right all along, that Sapnap was a slut, sucking on his fingers like a cheap whore and moaning when George tries to take them out. He feels vindicated, somehow, loves that he's always known, that he took one look at those pretty lips and knew they'd wrap around his fingers or his cock </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, could practically see the tears gather at the edges of dark eyes. Sapnap plays it like he's shy, like he's innocent, but George can see right through it. He can't look like that and not be a total slut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap sighs gently, shifts, and George's thumb pushes in again. George wonders what that satiny tongue would feel like on his cock, pushes the idea from his mind as he looks up, watches Dream switch lanes, hum to himself tunelessly over the music. Sapnap's breath is warm over George's wrist, and he can't keep his focus on Dream, has to look back down, has to watch Sapnap's dark eyelashes flutter as he swallows around George's thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could do it, he thinks. He could press the head against his lips, watch them part, let Sapnap have exactly what he so clearly wants. All he'd have to do was make sure he didn't get off, or Sapnap would wake up to a mouthful of come, and George wouldn't let that happen. That'd be fucked up, he's not some kind of predator. George licks his own lips looking down at Sapnap’s, at the slight sheen that gathers around the connection between them, and carefully, gently, pulls out with a soft wet sound, almost wipes his thumb on his sweatpants but that would leave a mark, so George wraps his own lips around his thumb, tastes barely anything but feels himself shudder all the same at the intimacy of it. He watches Sapnap’s open lips shut slowly, lets him miss the touch for a moment before tracing his fingertips over the lower one, presses down slightly and Sapnap’s jaw falls open at the gentle encouragement. George swallows, feels the heat in his gut twist again and takes a deep breath, steadying himself before glancing up toward Dream. Dream bobs his head, stares through the windshield and drapes his wrist over the steering wheel. He hasn’t looked at or spoken to George for a while now. Maybe he’s safe enough for the time being. George lets his palm rest lightly on Sapnap’s chin, feels the stubble that’s slightly softer than he would’ve imagined, and his fingertips stroke the soft, damp skin of his lip, slightly slick and warm to the touch, edges them forward and touches the tip of Sapnap’s tongue, lets out a breath as Sapnap kitten licks the pads of his fingers with a gentle sigh. George feels that hot vindication again, the satisfaction that </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sapnap would lick his fingers, of course he’d make soft little noises and suck him in like he's desperate for it, like all he wants is for George to fingerfuck his throat and George feels himself grin at the idea, press down on his pillowy tongue and feel the hot, slow breath on his skin. The back of Sapnap’s head is pressed far too close to the seam of his pants for comfort, and George shifts as subtly as he's able, moves back and holds Sapnap in his free hand, cradled and sucking on George’s fingers contentedly, having closed his lips around them again. George doesn’t put him back down right away, spends a moment to look at him, wonders what his lips would feel like on his own, would taste like on his tongue. He leans over Sapnap, enjoys the feeling of his soft hair, silky and tangled around his fingers. George sets his hand back down, watches Sapnap’s head tilt back as he’s laid back over George’s thighs, feels the urge to trail fingertips down his neck, touch the soft, warm skin, make Sapnap shudder. He lets his fingers part and feels Sapnap’s tongue between them. George fights a groan, bites his lip and works his hand out of Sapnap’s hair, runs it through the strands briefly before palming himself, clenching his jaw and watching the back of Dream’s head, feeling Sapnap’s tongue between his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George twitches against his hand, squeezes his eyes shut and takes his fingers from Sapnap's mouth with another slick pop, licks them clean again and resolves not to do anything else to Sapnap. He won't. Besides, it's not like he'd be able to get away with it, Dream is less than three feet in front of him. So George sits, hard and aching, and Sapnap turns toward him again, doesn't snore so much as sigh gently against the fabric of George's sweatpants, breaths hot and damp against him as Sapnap's face rests directly over his clothed cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The angle of the mirror is wrong for Dream to see him, George thinks. It's positioned too high for it. If Dream looked back, all he'd see was George from the chest up. And on top of that, even if he does turn around for some reason, it wouldn't look too incriminating for Sapnap to be asleep in his lap right? Hell, as long as George doesn't get his whole cock out it probably wouldn't look like anything at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that's not what he's supposed to be worrying about. There should be guilt, he knows, should be something in his head telling him how bad, how wrong, how immoral this is, but there's nothing. No curl of disgust in his stomach, no cold clawing fear over anything besides the idea that he might be found out. And that's… probably not great, maybe there's something wrong with him, George thinks. Or maybe it's because Sapnap is clearly a whore so one more cock in his mouth won't make much of a difference. George sneers. Yeah that's probably it, he thinks, and presses the heel of his hand against himself again, thinks about how Sapnap would look getting his pretty little face fucked, tears streaming down his cheeks while he chokes George down, takes whatever he's given like a good little slut. Sapnap mumbles incoherently, shifts closer, and George has to stare at the felt ceiling of the car as the movement brings Sapnap's cheek right over him. It's like he can fucking tell, George thinks, like he knows subconsciously to seek out what he's best used for. It'd be cute if it wasn't so pathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap's pretty lips are shut now, looking altogether incomplete without something between them as he snuffles against George's thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George watches Dream, watches Sapnap, swallows thickly, and then snakes a hand up under his hoodie slowly. The only fear in him is the fear that Dream will turn around while he's doing this, or worse, stop the car. He pushes his fingers, slightly sticky with damp still, into the waistband of his boxers, gets a gentle grip on himself. He's hard enough that even this makes him want to gasp, and George pulls his cock out from under the soft cotton, tense and aching, and slips the head out beneath the hem of the hoodie, gathering the precome there on the pad of his thumb, half an inch from Sapnap's lips and the hot, damp breath makes him want to shove his hips forward, bury himself in Sapnap's throat and fuck it until he cant anymore, make Sapnap wait for him to get hard, and then fuck it again. George waits, feels the sensation of hot air on himself for a moment and enjoys the tease of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George takes a steadying breath, and then takes his thumb to Sapnap's lips again. He lets it rest against them, feels Sapnap lick the salt from the skin, and then open up for him like a good little slut. And fuck, George will never get enough of that. Sapnap doesn't seem to care much about the precome on George's thumb, clearly because he's used to the taste, and George hisses a breath through his teeth, licks his lips, takes his thumb away and rubs it over the head of his cock again, before pressing it back in, feeding Sapnap the taste of him and twitching when he doesn't reject it outright, lets George's thumb rest on his tongue again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, he presses, pulls Sapnap's lips apart and revels in the wet sheen of them, beautiful and gleaming. George steels himself again, gently, oh so gently, braces his damp hand at the back of Sapnap's head, inches him closer, closer, until his face rests just above the leaking tip of George's cock. The feeling of the breath is more difficult to withstand now, and George twitches against Sapnap's cheek, smears the tiniest amount of wetness there and is mesmerised by the sight of it as Sapnap sighs in sleep, as if to tease him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George's abdomen tenses harshly, and he makes a face before shifting his gaze up toward Dream, still driving, still distracted. George takes himself in his hand, tries to ignore the urge to squeeze, to rub, to press forward, and with the care of a man diffusing an explosive, nudges upward so that the tip is poised against Sapnap's open lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it's beautiful. It's the most perfect Sapnap has ever looked, with his hair mussed and precome smeared on his cheek and George at his plush pink lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he lets George in, like George always knew he would, it's probably the best thing George has ever felt. George has had people choke on his cock before, he's had big beautiful lips and tight mouths and warm pressure, but this… this is perfect. This is exactly where George belongs, exactly where Sapnap belongs, and when Sapnap's pretty pink tongue laps against the tip, textured and hot and gentle like he's exploring, George is convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has to have Sapnap. It doesn't matter how annoying, how loud, how brash, how immature he is, that's nothing him having his lips around George's cock won't prevent from ever being a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George presses himself forward gently, tentative and slow, and Sapnap's lips widen, open up for him like the whore he is and George watches his cheeks bulge slightly, feels himself shiver and ooze precome against Sapnap's tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's the softest oral George has ever gotten. Sapnap has no need to close his lips tight around George, hollow his cheeks and tongue the tip like George knows he would if he were conscious, fuck, he'd probably moan like a pornstar and deepthroat George, a professional, an expert in his field. But like this, George is simply encased in velvet heat, teased by the soft, wet tongue that moves gently against him. It's the wettest head he's ever gotten too, by far. Sapnap doesn't seal his lips, and George watches the precome-saliva mixture that gathers on his lips and at the edges of his mouth, pearlescent and shiny and eventually sliding in long drips down the side of his face, soaking into George's sweatpants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George would almost be more inclined to call this cockwarming over a blowjob, were it not for the constant, gentle suckling, Sapnap pulling him in like he did with George's fingers, his thumb, urging George deeper, a temptation George has to deny over and over and Sapnap's silky soft mouth teases him, slow and gentle, kitten licking the tip and sucking like he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> George to come onto his tongue, like he'd swallow it all down, the perfect whore.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap's tongue slips over the slit, and George clenches his jaw, exhales and fights the urge to moan, to grab handfuls of that soft dark hair and fuck up into that tight, wet heat, wake Sapnap up, let Dream see, show him exactly how much of a cockslut his best friend his as he chokes George down, drools down his shaft. But he can't, can't wake Sapnap, can't let Dream know this is happening. Dream would only want some for himself, and George isn't sure he's willing to share. If this is to be his, then it has to be secret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still though, he glances up at Dream, singing just slightly out of time and incredibly off key, it wouldn't hurt to let Sapnap have a little more. He's practically begging for it, after all, pulling George in and keeping him on edge, sucking so softly George thinks he might be savouring this, the salt on his tongue and the fullness of his mouth, and fuck, this is the best thing George has ever done. Fuck guilt, fuck fear, this is the greatest discovery he's ever made. Sapnap is a whore, proven by the fact that he sucks cock like one. Even if he's only ever been fucked twice in his life, even if he's been a top up until this point, George knows a whore when he feels one suck his cock down like they need it, like they want him to ruin their throat and then rearrange their guts for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George is close now, painfully hard and spilling precome that Sapnap laps up like a cat with cream, sucks down his eager little throat, but George knows he'll wake him if he comes. He wouldn't be able to swallow him down fast enough, would choke, would cough, would panic and cry like such a pretty little whore and as much as George wants to see it, the consequences far outweigh the benefits if he gets caught. George sucks in a breath and feels Sapnap hum around him gently, turn his head to rest more comfortably on his lap and take George slightly deeper. It's like Sapnap is trying to tempt him, coy little slut, so demure, so innocent until he's begging George to fuck his throat until he sobs, until he chokes on it, passes out from the lack of air and goes slack around him while George uses him like the hole he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would get on his knees and beg George to fuck him, to let him sit on George's thick cock and bounce so that his thighs jiggle. His thighs are so hot, his ass is so fucking hot, hell, if George got him to eat well for a while he'd probably get enough to squeeze on his chest to bounce like tits for George to bite into, to lick while he fucked Sapnap full of his come, pushed it inside over and over and over until Sapnap's guts are full of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George feels himself teeter on the edge, realises he's been rolling his hips slightly, fucking into the wet heat with his hand still supporting the back of Sapnap's head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck," he mouths, makes no noise, before slowly, gently, lifting Sapnap's head back to pull him away, George's jaw dropping wide at the filthy sound of it, the line of saliva that snaps between George's cock on Sapnap's tongue that peeks from between his lips as if he misses being full. George's guts squeeze and he exhales before wrapping his free hand around his cock, slick with spit, to shove it back inside his sweatpants, jerking as quickly and as subtly as he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn't take long. George watches the spit drip from Sapnap's open mouth and comes all over his hand, curling over Sapnap as he does, feels the slick heat spill over his fingers and shuts his eyes, lets himself twitch with aftershocks. George sits back against the seat of the car, hand still beneath his waistband, and Sapnap shifts slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feels filthy, sticky and damp, and George is about to bite the bullet and wipe the come onto the inside of his hoodie when Sapnap's tongue darts out from between his lips, and George bites his own in return, draws his hand out from under the fabric. George stares at the globs of white, and then at Sapnap's lips, and then drags his thumb through the viscous fluid, pressing it against Sapnap's lips that open again, gently. His pretty face wrinkles up at the taste, and George smiles at him. He's so cute. When George's thumb is clean, he pulls it back, repeats, gathering come on the pad of it and pressing into Sapnap's mouth, feeding him what should've gone down his throat in the first place, what eventually will. He'll get his treat eventually, and George will be so proud of his little whore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When George's hand is mostly clean, he slips the sleeve of his hoodie over it, wipes what remains over the soft, fuzzy fabric. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pulls Sapnap in gently, cradles his head, makes sure his face tilts toward George's knees when it falls to the side again, runs licked-clean fingers through his pretty hair, wipes the mess from his face with his hoodie sleeve. Apart from his slightly puffy lips and his hair being messy, he looks pristine, and George runs his thumb along Sapnap's face, from cheekbone down into the soft hair at his temple, leans over and kisses his forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George lets Dream drive in silence for another couple of songs before murmuring, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dream, look," and smiling when he turns back, "he's been like this for like half an hour." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream coos over Sapnap briefly, before turning back to the road, and when Sapnap wakes, George smiles down at him, murmurs, "Good morning, sleep well?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brown eyes blink up at him, slightly glazed over, and Sapnap sighs gently, swallows, breathes, "You let me sleep on you?" so softly George feels his chest constrict. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," he says, "you looked like you needed it. Feel any better?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap nods, rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand before rising with a sniff and licking his lips, making a face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ugh," he says, "My headache's gone, but I think I slept too long. My mouth tastes like ballsack," and stretches his shoulders, "Dream, do we have any water?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George resists the urge to sneer, grins playfully instead, "Familiar with the taste of ballsack, are we?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe George should've been shoving his cock into Sapnap's mouth from the beginning, because instead of the affronted, plaintive bitching George is expecting, Sapnap actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nah," he giggles, "I've had like one kiss in my lifetime, dude, I can't flirt for shit." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blinks and Dream laughs, "It's true, I had to talk into his ear through his airpods and tell him how to hold a conversation before," and George's stomach hits the asphalt below the car as Sapnap nods, unscrews the cap of a bottle of water and drinks, George's eyes glued to the bob of his throat before Sapnap shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just not good at that stuff," he smiles, blushes, and George nods, bites down on his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George doesn't say much for a long time, feels the awful twisting in his stomach that had been utterly absent up until now. Sapnap is a virgin. Not only is Sapnap a virgin, but he's a shy, naïve virgin who has never been able to respond to attention in his life, not once. George lets himself wallow in that for a long moment, and then wonders whether Sapnap would respond to flirting if it was from somebody he knew, somebody like George, and is hit with, for the second time that day, what is perhaps the worst idea he's ever had. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pls comment if u enjoyed i crave validation more than water or air</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>